Embraced
by Nemorian
Summary: People keep secrets for a number of reasons. To protect themselves, others, or simply because they've done something horrible. However, no matter how hard someone tries, their secret always comes out... and Ressanen's could destroy all of Morrowind.
1. Recommended

"Hmm... yes. You're quite skilled, aren't you?" Edwinna said, brushing a stray brown hair out of her eyes as she read over the recommendation written by an old friend of hers. She glanced up at the Altmer, who was staring at her intently. "Well, if Restinal says you have skill, I'm inclined to believe him. He always had good judgment before now."

"I am glad to hear that. He told me working for you would be... interesting." The Altmer said.

"That sounds like him." Edwinna folded the letter, sliding it into the pocket of her dark blue robe. "Of course, I like to make my own assessments of a person's skill."

The Altmer nodded. "That's understandable. What would you like me to do?"

"Alma."

"Sorry?"

The door behind him creaked open, and the Altmer glanced over his shoulder. A Breton with short red hair walked in, a sheathed iron sabre hanging on the belt of her red robe. "This the one?" She asked, looking over the Altmer.

"Yes. Ressanen, this is Alma, one of the guild's finer spellswords. Alma, this is Ressanen, an excellent mage according to an old friend of mine." Edwinna said, walking over to Alma. "Alma, you go over the mission with him, I see someone that is long overdue on one of his jobs." She hurried out the door at a Breton with shoulder-length brown hair that had just started down the staircase. "NEM!"

Ressanen saw the Breton jump in surprise and fall down the staircase just before the door closed, blocking the view. He looked at Alma and smiled politely. "Well, I'm ready whenever you want to tell me my mission."

Alma chuckled. "You're slow for an Altmer. I'm not giving you a mission, Miss Elbert could have done that herself. I'm here to gauge your power."

"Oh? How do we go about that?" Ressanen inquired. He hadn't expected a test, just a trial mission.

"Strip." Alma said simply, a serious expression on her face.

"I... I beg your pardon?" He stuttered.

"You heard me, strip. Lose the shiny golden robe, along with anything underneath it."

"Er..." He glanced nervously at his robe, then to his right wrist and back at Alma. "May I ask why?"

"Physical examination. Just to see how well built you are. Standard for newcomers to the Guild, nothing to worry about."

His eyes flicked to his wrist again, then to his chest. "But..."

"Do you need a hand? I'd be happy to help."

"N-no... I just..." He nervously raised his hand to the belt of his robe. "I'm just-"

Alma started laughing, leaning against the door. "You should see the look on your face, it's priceless!"

Ressanen just stared blankly at her for a moment. "I... what?" He asked, feeling very confused.

"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. Every Altmer I meet is almost always stuck-up or serious. Seeing one with an expression like you have is a rare sight, plus I always annoy new guys the first chance I get." She said, still laughing.

He frowned, tightening his belt. "If you're done trying to be funny, maybe you could tell me how you're going to test me."

"Oh, that? I'm just supposed to go with you on a mission and see how well you perform, nothing major."

"Nice to know my tester has a sense of humor." He said sarcastically. "Can we get this over with?"

"Anytime you're ready, Res. I can explain things on the way."

xxx

They set out immediately. Ressanen had no interest in prolonging his time with such an annoying Breton. Alma, however, found annoying him, or any other Altmer for that matter, a great way to spend time. She did try to be nice though, attempting to strike up a conversation with him all the way to Maar Gan. She didn't manage to, but she deserved credit for persistence. She was still at it as the silt strider came to a stop.

"Come on, you had to have come from somewhere! I'm only asking where! I told you I'm from High Rock, you owe me an answer!" Alma said, following him as he climbed off the strider.

"I did not ask where you were from, and as most Bretons are from High Rock, it's logical that's where you would be from. I don't owe you a thing." Ressanen said coldly. He couldn't believe how annoying she was. He had only met one Breton this irritating before now, and he was fairly certain that Alma topped that one. "Where are we going now?"

"Some tomb." She replied crossly.

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"Could you be a little nicer?"

Ressanen sighed. "Fine, as long as you don't start getting on my nerves again."

"Deal. The tomb is northeast of town, but I don't know the name of it."

"You're not much help, are you?"

"I'm supposed to just be watching you, so if I'm not being much help it means I'm doing my job." She retorted. "It shouldn't be that difficult to figure out, or have you forgotten the clue we got?"

"No. It's not much help though." He said, walking through the town's gateway.

"It's better than nothing."

Ressanen trudged along, blasting cliff racers out of the sky with his fireball spell as he went. The things were everywhere, and Alma was just walking silently behind him not bothering to lift a finger to help him kill the racers that bombarded him constantly. Every brief break in the attacks he got he used to cast his detect enchantment spell.

The job was to locate a tomb that a guild member had lost his enchanted staff in while trying to escape a small army of bonewalkers that rushed him in the main chamber. The detect spell wouldn't do much good for finding it where they were, since it would be too far underground. However, the person that lost it hid one of his unimportant enchanted amulets in the dirt outside the entrance so he could find the place again.

"There!" Ressanen said suddenly after torching another cliff racer.

Alma stopped, looking around. "There, what?"

"I sense it... the amulet. At least, I think that's what it is. I doubt anything else with an enchantment would be in a place like this." He had a point. They had come a long way from Maar Gan, onto some road that appeared to be traveled sparingly. If it had a bit more use, maybe there wouldn't be so many cliff racers.

"Which way?"

She didn't need to ask, Ressanen had already started off in the direction he felt the enchantment from at a quick pace. A tomb entrance came into view, but he didn't stop until he was a few feet away from it and off to the right. He reached down and pulled the amulet from beneath the dirt, shaking some of the sand and ash off before pocketing it. "One down, now for the staff."

The tomb door slid open easily, the smells of dust, mold and decay seeping out from inside. A mingle of odors that reminded Ressanen of his homeland, old ambitions, and painful memories. He unconsciously placed his right hand on his chest and left on his right wrist.

"Are you okay?" Alma asked, sincere concern in her voice. He had been standing there for longer than he thought and was bearing a pained expression. For all she knew one of those cliff racers had gotten a lucky shot in.

"I'm fine." He lied, returning his hands to his sides and venturing into the tomb. Alma followed him in, not fully believing him.

xxx

Three explosions boomed loudly in the confined interior of the tomb, and the three bonewalkers that had attacked lay on the floor, their bodies charred and smoking. Ressanen had made short work of the ones before those, leading them to the main chamber faster than Alma expected. Ressanen dropped one final bonewalker and started up the short staircase toward a mound of ash and bone where the staff they were looking for was laying.

Ressanen stared at it, the end jammed into the mound and it standing up as if it was on display. It seemed off to him, but Alma calling for him to hurry up from by the doorway distracted him long enough not to notice until he had grabbed it. The story the owner of it told them was that he dropped it near the stairs, not left it sitting where they had found it.

Ressanen turned to run, realizing it must be some sort of trap. He didn't notice the flicker of light as he did, and what appeared from it. Alma yelled for him to look out, running at him, but she was too far away. Ressanen glanced back just in time to see the dremora's sword descending toward his face.


	2. Hidden Beneath

The next thing Ressanen knew, he was being shaken awake by Alma. "What... happened?" He mumbled in a daze, his left hand still clenched around the staff. The dremora had vanished, but its sword was on the ground nearby, next to a pile of ashes.

"Your good reflexes is what happened." Alma said, helping him sit up. "You blocked the sword with your arm, but got knocked down the stairs and hit your head. I took over from there."

"I see..." Ressanen muttered, trying to remember. "I guess I owe you one then... thanks for the help."

"If you want to thank me... you could explain a couple things to me." She pulled back the sleeve on Ressanen's right arm, revealing the glowing bracer underneath. "Like why you're wearing a slave bracer on each wrist."

Ressanen quickly pulled his arm away and covered it back up. "It's a long story."

"And those scars all over your body?"

"They're..." He hesitated. "Wait, what did you do? Strip me while I was asleep?"

"I was making sure you didn't break anything! It's not my fault you don't wear a shirt under that robe!" She retorted.

Ressanen slowly stood up, brushing some of the dust off his robe. "The bracers and scars are just part of one long story... one I don't feel like discussing. It's none of your business anyway."

"You owe me something, you said so yourself! Are you an escaped slave?"

Ressanen laughed, shaking his head. "I thought you had to be intelligent to be in the Mages' Guild. Any decent enchanter can tell you these aren't slave bracers. They aren't prison bracers, either." He added quickly, noticing the questioning look on her face.

"Then what are they? What do they do?" She asked.

"It's none of your business, remember? It's not important anyway. Now, if we're quite done here..."

"Yes, we got what we needed, but..."

"Good." He said simply, and vanished in a flash of light.

"What the... a recall spell? Damn!" She yelled, before casting a Divine Intervention spell.

xxx

A scream echoed through the darkened, narrow tunnel and Ressanen removed his daedric dagger from the Imperial's back. "That's twenty-three." He muttered, staring at the bloodied blade. "Getting there..."

A voice came from behind him. "What the hell!" Ressanen turned to face the second Imperial that had appeared. "You... you fetcher! I'll kill you!" The Imperial charged with his broadsword raised, but was knocked backwards as a spell hit his chest. He kept his balance, ignoring the pain where it had struck and taking another step toward Ressanen. He suddenly felt his body stiffen... a paralyze spell.

Ressanen walked forward, twirling the dagger around his fingers. "You smugglers are a joke. Still, your blood is as valuable as almost anyone else's." He stopped a couple feet from the Imperial and, in one swift movement, the dagger tore across his throat.

Ressanen walked away slowly as the Imperial slumped onto the ground, dead. He resumed spinning the dagger around his fingers and grinned. "Twenty-four."

xxx

A knock on the door woke him up. Ressanen bolted upright, his blanket twisted and his pillow halfway across the room. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. He had reported the job to Edwinna and gone to get some sleep while waiting for Alma to get back.

There was another knock on the door, and Alma's voice came from the other side. "Res, are you awake yet?"

He rolled out of bed, still breathing heavily. It had been a long time since he'd had a dream like that. No doubt Alma's little questioning earlier had triggered it. He pulled on his robe and opened the door. "What is it?"

"I was just... uh..." She trailed off, staring at him. "Why are you all sweaty? Is there someone in there with you? That's against Guild rules, you know." She joked.

"Would you just get to the point?" Ressanen grumbled. It was bad enough he had one of those dreams again, he didn't feel like dealing with Alma on top of it.

"Edwinna has a job for you, if you're done napping. I reported back to her just a minute ago."

"Right... thanks. I'll speak with her once I'm ready." He replied quickly, closing the door before she could say anything else and going to sit down on the bed.

xxx

"Well, it sure sounds like the markings of a slave or prisoner." The Breton said, tapping his fingers on the table. "However, from what you've told me, he doesn't sound like either."

"I don't know him very well either, Nem. There's no telling what he used to be. Everyone has their secrets..." Alma said, sitting down across from him. She had been pacing as she explained what had happened on her mission with Ressanen.

"That's not something you have to tell me. I know all too well what some people try to hide." Nem muttered, leaning onto the table. "I also know how furious I would be if I found people talking about me behind my back. Maybe you should ask him instead of me; it would make getting answers easier."

"That's what you think. I prodded him during our entire mission. He didn't tell me a thing..." Alma sighed.

"Bet Edwinna wasn't happy about that."

"Not at all, but she didn't get as mad as she does just by looking at you. What happened between you two?"

"I'd tell you to mind your own business, but that obviously won't do any good. So if you really want to know..." He hesitated, looking off toward the staircase leading down into the guild. "...ask Edwinna."

"That's not-"

"Afternoon, Ressanen."

Alma quickly turned to face the staircase as Ressanen walked into the room, scratching his head and staring blankly at Nem. "Do I know you?" He asked in a dull tone.

"We haven't met directly, but Alma has been telling me a little about you. I'm Nem Orian."

"Right." Ressanen mumbled, giving Alma a suspicious glance. "Well, I'll see you around then." He said simply, walking out the front door of the guild.

"Geez... he continues to act like any other Altmer I've met." Alma said, shaking her head. "Quiet, serious, and humorless."

"I wish the one I knew was like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm supposed to meet Trelana somewhere." Nem said, getting up and heading toward the door.

"Hot date?" Alma asked with a grin.

"Shut up."

xxx

Ressanen walked slowly along the road, staring up at the cloudy sky. He kept thinking about that dream... those smugglers he slaughtered... and the dagger he used. He came to a stop, removing the small, folded remnants of an old, bloodstained robe from his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded it and revealed the daedric dagger it contained. It looked like it had just been repaired, as sharp as the day he received it and not a speck of blood on it. Amazing, since he had never taken it to a smith or bothered to clean it since the first time he held it.

"The only thing..." He mumbled, staring at it. Shaking his head, he quickly wrapped it back up and returned it to his pocket. It was a good thing Alma hadn't searched him while he was unconscious... the last thing he needed was her asking about that as well.

Forcing his thoughts on the job at hand, he continued down the road, glancing left and right. "Now then... where's that Dwemer stronghold supposed to be again?" He wondered aloud, consulting the notes he took about its location.


	3. Life and Undeath

"Down, Alma!" The Dunmer yelled, hurling a fireball in her direction.

Alma dove out of the way just in time, the flames singeing her hair as they passed by and collided with the face of a bonewalker. "Would you give me more than a split second to react when you do something like that?" She snapped, regaining her balance and thrusting her sword through the bonewalker's gut.

"If you didn't have the reflexes to dodge something like that, you would have been dead a long time ago." The Dunmer said calmly and he delivered the finishing blow to the bonewalker by smashing its skull with his mace. "Now then, what else is there to kill?"

"How barbaric... are you certain you're suited to the life of a mage, Velin?" Ressanen asked, snapping a skeleton in half with a final swing of his staff.

"You're one to talk. I hear you're pretty vicious on these little jobs yourself, Res." Velin countered.

"Vicious? I'm simply efficient. If that involves things turning rather bloody, so be it." Ressanen said, slamming the end of his staff into the fallen skeleton's skull and shattering it.

Alma looked at the Altmer, smiling. He had become much more open during the past couple of weeks at the guild, and even had become something close to friends with both her and Velin. Though he still wouldn't answer her about those scars and bracers.

"Now that we've taken care of these mindless puppets, which way do you think our target lies?" Velin wondered, gesturing to the two tunnels ahead.

"I'd say left." Alma suggested.

"Then you and Velin go that way, I'll take the right path so he can't slip by us." Ressanen said as he started to walk off.

"Hold on Res-"

"Have fun you two."

Alma scowled after him. "He still finds ways to annoy me."

"If he didn't try at least once a mission, I'd think it wasn't him." Velin chuckled, heading down the other tunnel. "Shall we?"

xxx

"I just don't understand these necromancers." Velin commented as he crouched in front of the door and produced a lockpick from his pocket.

"It's a horrid practice. Using the dead as puppets... makes me sick." Alma muttered, glaring down at a recently decapitated bonewalker.

"Actually, I meant if they wanted to work in this field, they'd have more brains going to a place like Cyrodiil, where it isn't outlawed. Wouldn't have to worry about people like us hunting them down." He said, working the lock. "Though I suppose you have a point as well. It's hardly a pleasant profession."

Alma gave him a cold look, but went unnoticed with his attention focused on the lock. "Why can't you just use an open spell and save us a headache?"

"I like working with my hands." Verin replied simply.

"I've noticed. I don't know how you made it into the guild, when we're on a job together I almost never see you use magicka... and the few times you do, you almost burn my face off."

The Dunmer flashed her a grin. "I could do much worse if I put any effort into it. Better not to, in my opinion."

"Why's that?" She wondered as the lock clicked.

He shrugged. "If I showed what I could really do, Edwinna would promote me, jobs would get tougher and my guild dues would be more expensive."

"Not to mention you might actually have to use your head during a job instead of just bashing faces in left and right."

"You do understand me!" Velin laughed, holding his mace ready.

Alma sighed. "Hardly. Let's just keep moving."

"Alright then, onward!" Kicking the door open, he charged into the next room swinging.

xxx

_"Ninety-nine lives... well done, Ressanen." Kirava said with a satisfied smile on his face. "In all honesty, I didn't expect you to manage such a feat. How glad I am to be proven wrong."_

_ Ressanen nodded. "While it was difficult in the beginning, it was nothing I could not handle. I trust you made me stop because you had an actual target in mind this time? Killing anyone that happens by is work best left to murderers and mercenaries."_

_ The Dunmer gave a harsh laugh. "Yes, that is precisely why I called for you. The hundredth life taken is... a transition, you could say." He turned away, looking at the statue that loomed over the chamber. "The man you have to kill next... will be a significant step forward."_

_ "Spare me the dramatics, just name the target and I'll give you a corpse."_

_ Kirava chuckled, grinning. "Speaking like that, are you certain you're not one of those murderers you mentioned?"_

_ The Altmer scowled. "If I were, you would be my next victim."_

_ "You're cute when trying to be scary." The Dunmer said brightly, offering him a rolled piece of paper. "Here's your target. I believe you have heard the name before."_

_ Ressanen snatched the paper out of his hand, turned, and walked off muttering to himself about having to deal with such a person. Unrolling the paper and glancing at the name brought both his quiet complaints and steps to an abrupt halt. Rereading it to be sure, he felt his stomach knot. He knew the name, all right. Very well._

xxx

A smash from the next room snapped Ressanen out of his reminiscing. Holding his staff ready, he pushed open the door with his foot and stepped through. Alma and Velin were on the other side, fighting a necromancer and his bonewalker minions. Green flashed as the necromancer brought down his glass shortsword, only to have it blocked by Alma's silver one.

"Another one? Give me a break!" The necromancer shouted upon noticing the new arrival.

"I'd be glad to, if you'd hold still long enough!" Velin laughed, smashing the head of one of the bonewalkers and lunging at the necromancer.

Taking a quick slash at Alma and a step back, the necromancer raised his free hand and a flash lit up the room. Lightning magic boomed, Velin screamed and was sent flying head first into one of the urns along the walls of the tomb. The urn shattered and the dunmer landed on ground covered in ash and bonemeal.

Ressanen slammed his staff across the remaining bonewalker's face, wondering if his reckless companion had finally succeeded in getting himself killed. Alma swore, going at the necromancer twice as hard as before. Thinking she might be getting just as foolish, the necromancer let loose another volley of lightning. Alma, unlike Velin, saw him prepare the spell and tried to avoid it. While she managed to dodge the brunt of the attack, it struck her shoulder enough to force her back a few steps and drop her sword.

Wasting no time, the necromancer lunged forward, aiming to pierce her heart. Alma barely had time to look back at him before blood splattered on her face. The necromancer's eyes widened and he staggered backwards screaming as a fireball spell struck him in the face.

"Well... this is unfortunate." Ressanen muttered as he stared down at the sword impaled through his gut, before choking up blood and collapsing onto the ground.


End file.
